Heatwave
by talkofcake
Summary: Jack didn't always have brilliant ideas, but taking Carter to Florida for an entire week had to be the top of his list. Jack/Sam, PWP, set between seasons 9 and 10.
1. Prologue

Kissing Carter had been way easier than he'd ever expected. Sure, his knees were wobbly and hands shaky, and they both lost their breath, forcing them to pull apart, exasperated, chuckling at their frantic teenage-like behavior, but at least the world hadn't ended.

Telling Carter he loved her had been nerve-wracking at best, but also so much easier than he'd expected. It wasn't mushy and sappy, straight out of a cliche romance film that he hated even before he saw; it slipped out almost naturally and maybe even casually. "Love ya," he had jabbed amidst a kiss goodnight on her doorstep. "You too," she replied, eyes wide and beautiful and smiling at him with promise. Fireworks exploded somewhere in his head, and for a moment he had wondered if the world was, indeed, ending. But as he gazed absently at a closed door while winter air nipped his cheeks rosy, he was pretty sure the world was just beginning.

Carter loved him.

Having sex with Carter was a completely different story. In fact, plain and simple, the sex just hadn't happened yet. They'd fooled around a bit, even made ridiculously organized plans for evenings together, but between boring politics beckoning him back to D.C. and the SGC demanding all of the brains Carter had to offer (which was admittedly a lot, Jack realized), they just hadn't got there yet. In fact, for all intents and purposes of the different realities they'd encountered over the years, the universe now seemed bent on keeping them apart just a little while longer. And as Jack O'Neill knew far too well, 'a while' was quite ambiguous being that time is relative and all. He wondered if it was their punishment for waiting so long to begin with. He could almost hear the universe mocking him and Carter, every rule and regulation and suppressed feeling that kept them apart for so long flashing before him in an agonizing proverbial slide show.

Then a piece of paper ended up on his desk one day, a memo, glaring at him while he glared back. It announced a series of meetings he'd be attending that pertained to the new satellite launch base in Florida he vaguely remembered hearing about some weeks ago at yet another meeting. Meetings, meetings, meetings. And more meetings. All he wanted to do was have sex with Carter, and now his presence was needed in Florida.

That's when a very rare and brilliant idea wedged itself in the confines of his brain and caused his entire face to light up in realization.

Florida.

*** * * ***

The phone call startled her out of the very important work she was doing. She rubbed her eyes and groggily tried to focus her vision on the watery computer screen in front of her. It was nearly eight o' clock in the evening.

"Hello?" her voice cracked into the receiver.

"Did I wake you?"

She smiled, relaxing into the chair at the sound of his voice.

"Kinda. Though it's probably a good thing. I'm supposed to be working."

"Carter, this is your home phone. I believe the point of going home is to _leave_ work, not take it with you."

She smiled again, rolling her eyes.

"What's up?"

"What, I have to have a reason to call?"

She could hear his grin through the phone.

"Of course not, but then that would be uncharacteristic of you." A beat of silence passed and she strained to listen. The dinging of a seat belt warning followed by the slamming of a car door, and then he was walking. "Where are you?" she asked.

"That's not important. You busy tonight?"

"Huh? Oh, no. Just...work."

"You eat yet?"

"No," she replied, and her stomach grumbled at the thought of skipping supper. "You still planning on coming home next weekend?"

"Not exactly," he answered, and her heart sank.

"What do you mean?"

"Plans have changed."

"Jack?"

"Carter?"

Then the doorbell rang, and she scrunched her forehead in confusion.

"Just a second, someone's at the door. Sorry."

She pushed herself to her feet and ventured out of the kitchen and towards the front door, flipping on the porch light so she could identify the late night visitor.

"I hate you," she murmured, biting back a smile at the sight of one Jack O'Neill with his face plastered against the glass, the biggest, dorkiest smile on his face as he peered at her through the window. "I'm hanging up now," she announced, lowering the phone and unlocking the door. She grasped the handle and, with a slightly bitter gust of autumn wind, Jack stepped into her house and right into her arms, his lips finding hers before either of them had a chance to speak.

"Still hate me?" he asked, nuzzling her neck as she buried her face into the warmth of his shoulder and inhaled him.

"Mmm, I guess I reasonably like you."

"And I reasonably missed you," he said. He pulled back, and she beamed up at him.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Surprised?" He grinned.

"Yes. Very."

Their lips met once again. Soft, slow, steady movements, but passionate and full of so much promise. Even though their first kiss had been almost a year ago, several months after her father's passing and their individual promotions to General and Lieutenant Colonel, the fewness of their kisses since, due to miles between them, left their bodies reacting with surges of adrenaline while they supported each other with shaky arms and legs.

"So," she said, eyes still closed as he reluctantly drew back from her.

"So?"

"You still haven't answered my question."

"What question?" His eyes sparkled with playfulness, and she wordlessly led him into the living room and sat them down. She gazed expectantly at him across the expanse of the couch.

"Ever been to Florida, Carter?" he finally asked, deepening her curiosities as she furrowed her brow.

"Florida?"

"Yeah, you know. Deathly hot temperatures, even deadlier humidity levels, Mickey Mouse, alligators, beaches, little bikinis..."

She shot him a glare in jest and raised her eyebrow.

"What _about_ Florida, Jack?"

"We're going! Me and you. No SGC...no Washington, no saving the world. Well, I will have to go to meetings a couple of the days. But yeah. Just me and you, and you in a little bikini. Do you have a little bikini, Carter?"

He glanced over, ignoring the surprise etched into her face, eyes skimming over the turquoise V-neck shirt she was wearing that dipped just low enough that an inch or so of cleavage smiled up at him, eyes continuing down to where her blue jeans snugly hugged the curve of her legs. He just about pounced across the couch to get to her. He realized suddenly, picturing Carter in a bikini, let alone actually seeing her in one, wasn't probably the best thing to be doing right now if he wanted to maintain any sense of self-control.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No! I'm not kidding. I'm really wondering if you have a little bikini, otherwise we're going to have to buy you one. It's hot in Florida, ya know."

"Jack."

"What?"

"We're going to Florida?"

Being that he had one of the smartest brains the country sitting across from him, she sure had a slow reaction rate at the moment. It made him grin even wider at the thought that he was probably the only thing in the entire universe with the ability to lower Carter's IQ.

"Yes."

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

"_Tomorrow_?"

"Yeah. Don't worry. Already told Landry you're taking the week off."

"The _week_?" she cried, more shocked than anything.

"Yeah."

"Wow. That's....that's....wow," she repeated, and just as he was starting to get worried she wasn't in the mood for a surprise vacation, her arms were around his neck and her tongue in his mouth, tasting and thanking him all at once. It was nearly too much to take, especially with that image of Carter in a bikini still fresh in his mind.

His hands grasped her by her waist and drew her gently back.

"I take that as a yes?"

"As if I'd say no to Florida. But...what about all my work?"

"Believe it or not, Carter, as smart as you are, there are other eggheads who are capable of filling your shoes for a week. A week and a half? Maybe not. But they can handle one week. They better, or I told Landry I'll shoot them myself."

She smiled crookedly at him and bit her lower lip, and his previous thoughts of pouncing her were rapidly resurfacing.

"I tell ya what. I'm gonna go home and pack and get a good night's rest. You should do the same. And eat something, alright?" Her shoulders dropped in disappointment. "Carter, we have a whole week ahead of us to do whatever we want."

"Yeah," she said, leaning forward and pressing her lips to the skin on his neck. He swore he could feel bursts of electricity shoot through the nerve-endings there even after her lips were replaced by her nuzzling nose.

"I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow morning. Our flight leaves at eight-thirty."

She nodded into his shoulder, fingers dancing across his back as she embraced him.

"I lied earlier," she said, voice muffled.

"About what?"

"I missed you a lot," she confessed. "This whole long-distance thing beats regulations but that doesn't make it easy."

"I know," he whispered into her hair. His whisper became a feather kiss, his scent glands overcome by a whiff of her fruity shampoo. Another kiss and they separated. He stood and made his way to the door, her close on his heel.

"I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Oh, you can count on it," he said, his lips tugging into a sideways smirk. And since the world hadn't ended the first time or the second time, or even the third time, Jack took a deep breath and thought he'd take his chances considering the odds were looking pretty good.

"Love ya," he said and tried to pretend he hadn't noticed the ridiculous, pubescent-like voice crack that riddled his admission.

She giggled softly, obviously catching it as well and not at all worrying about wounding his ego. Her laughter, however, quickly washed away his embarrassment.

"Me too."

He turned on his heel and exited through her front door, walking briskly to his car to escape the chilling wind. The thought of eighty degrees and high humidity didn't seem like a terrible thought after all. He shivered and slid into the car seat, slamming the door behind him. The engine roared to life. As she waved at him from her doorway and disappeared into her house, he wondered if she knew that he'd been serious about the bikini.


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

The morning could have been worse, he kept telling himself. He wasn't sure what could be more worse than first forgetting his driver's license at home and having to drive all the way back from Carter's house. Or stepping through the security checkpoint and having the high-pitched alarm blare because he had a damn metal plate in his knee from Iraq and no one seemed to be able to locate the paperwork proving that (and the resulting course of action of getting to know security a bit too intimately for his tastes; if Carter hadn't touched him like that yet, why should a security guard be able to?) Or nearly jogging to their terminal and arriving exactly thirty seconds before the final boarding call for passengers. Or getting stuck next to a severely overweight woman on the plane who's voice was about as deep as a Goa'uld's and as loud and shrill as Harlan's (and who consequently decided he and Carter needed to know every political viewpoint she had, and in how many ways she'd like to see President Hayes eat his own shit and die). Or the airplane being out of beer by the time the flight attendant made it to their seat. Why had he refused first class again?

No, definitely could have been worse. The world could have been ending. A part of him almost wished it was, because at least that would mean he'd be on board some cool, albeit over the top Goa'uld mothership, saving the day, where he'd have every right to blast the hell out of the arrogant asshole he was up against. Having shared this thought with Carter as she gazed lazily out the window of the plane, she quietly reminded him that shooting civilians would probably force him into early retirement. He liked that idea and grimaced when he realized his gun was in his suitcase, somewhere under the plane, far away from his current position.

But then Carter's head of brilliantly, long blonde hair was on his shoulder, and her eyes fluttered closed amidst a sigh as she relaxed against him. And her hand was on his knee. And her lips pursed in that oh-so-sexy Carter way. And yeah, the day could have started much, much worse he decided, letting the tension drain out of him as he shut his own eyes.

An hour later, the change in elevation beat through his head, and he gently placed a kiss on her temple to wake her.

"Carter," he whispered.

He watched as she came back to life, resurrecting from her slumber, eyelids slowly opening to reveal foggy blue eyes. She glanced up at him, stretched, and smiled. He smiled back.

"We there yet?"

"Almost. Ten minutes until landing."

She peered out of the window at small, indistinct shapes becoming tangible objects. Dots grew to palm trees, moving blurs became cars, blue areas formed into pools and ponds. It had been far too long since she'd been this far South, and the nearly tropical view from the airplane made the excitement within her grow.

"I wonder how hot it is," she commented, and he shrugged, setting his chin on her shoulder as he shared her view.

"Dunno, it's hot and humid," he said. "Remember, we're in Florida."

"Really?"

His finger playfully jabbed into her ribs and she nudged him right back with her elbow. They continued to watch the world beneath grow as the plane continued its descent.

They managed to survive their way through the baggage claim and finally to the exit where a driver was patiently waiting for them in an unmarked car. The moment they stepped out of the air conditioned airport, they were hit with a wall of hot, humid air.

The driver, upon seeing them, scurried out of the car and saluted.

"General, Colonel."

He took their bags and loaded them into the trunk, then saw to it that they safely made it into the backseat of the car, which earned an eye roll from Jack.

"We used to be _de-whatever-ized_ across the galaxy, and he's concerned about if I'm buckled up properly?" Jack whispered into her ear, and Sam bit her lip to keep from giggling.

It was a short drive through afternoon traffic to the hotel, and the entire ride was spent with their hands loosely entangled in her lap. Occasionally Jack would twirl a piece of her hair around his finger, or brush his finger over her nose, or blow on her ear, all of which earned him a mock glare before she leaned up to kiss him softly.

The truth was, he was having trouble keeping his hands off of her, and the thought of the things he was going to do to her as soon as he possibly could were always there in his mind. He was also quite curious whether or not she'd brought a little bikini.

They arrived at the hotel, and the driver gave Jack his number. Besides taking him to his scheduled meetings during the week, he would be available in case he and Carter needed a ride somewhere in town.

The hotel was much nicer than Sam had been expecting. But that was the Air Force. They were sending a three-star General and a full-bird Colonel across the country, and despite Jack's insistence that they not ride first class or be given any ridiculously pompous special treatment, the reservations they found themselves were pretty damn pompous.

Jack slid the room key through the lock, the red light turned green, and the door clicked. He pushed open the door and Sam gasped.

Yeah, definitely special treatment.

Jack just groaned, rolling his eyes as the bellboy rolled their luggage into the room.

"I told them we didn't need _this_."

"Well, they gave us _this_."

"Hey, is that a mini-bar?"

"Doesn't look very mini," she said, watching as he moved over to the spacious kitchen area.

"Sweet," he said, fingering the alcohol lined up methodically in front of the mirrored wall.

Sam tipped the bellboy and closed the door behind him, then turned back and saw Jack pouring himself a drink.

"Want one?"

"It's still afternoon, Jack," she said, walking over to the bedroom and opening up the doors. She peered inside and smiled at the setup.

A king-sized bed sat in the middle of the room with dark red, satin sheets drawn up around a dozen fluffy pillows laced with fringes and doily things. Beside the bed was two bottles of champagne set in ice and an array of chocolates. Her stomach growled.

He took a drink and set down the glass, coming up behind her as she stood in the doorway. She jumped slightly as his arms wrapped around her waist and he planted a kiss to her neck.

"Hey," she said and smiled widely up at him.

"Mmm," he replied, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin of her neck again and again until her skin tingled all over in electric response.

As his hands settled on her hips and pulled her even closer to him, his waist pressed firmly into her, his intentions were made pretty clear.

"Jack?" she asked sweetly, turning in his arms.

"Hmm?" His lips found her temple, and his hands found her ass.

"I'm hungry."

"Me too," he replied, voice heavy and so delicious that if her stomach wasn't growling in protest, she would have turned them around and pushed him down onto the bed right then and there.

"No, I mean, all I've eaten today were those crackers on the plane."

"Oh," he said, and drew back from her, the desire previously heavy on his face morphing quickly into concern. "Yeah, we should probably do something about that."

"Probably."

She grinned.

He pulled away from her and walked over to the living room area, where a few brochures were laid out on the wooden coffee table.

"What are you in the mood for?" he asked, handing her a brochure as he thumbed through one.

"Do you think we could go out?" she asked, taking a seat next to him on the couch and setting her head on his shoulder.

"Of course. We could take a walk down the street and see what looks good," he suggested, tossing the pamphlet back onto the table.

"Okay. I'm going to get changed," she said, kissing him quickly on the temple.

"Okay."

She stood and grabbed her suitcase, carried it into the bedroom, and shut the doors behind her. While she dressed, Jack moved to adjust the air conditioning so they wouldn't die of hypothermia. He was pretty sure there was already frostbite forming on his bare toes.

Several minutes later, after he'd managed to flip through a few dozen of the few hundred satellite channels, the double doors to the bedroom pushed open and he glanced over to see Sam standing in the doorway, hands on her hips. His gaze, already on its way back to the television, did a complete double take when his brain caught up and practically smacked him for being so slow. Was that a mini-skirt?

Yes. Yes, it was.

He swallowed, eyes traveling up and down her figure. She smirked back. Damn that woman. She knew _exactly_ what she was doing to him in that denim mini-skirt that rested midway down her thighs and the loosely fitting but oh-so-low bright blue tank top that brought out every shade possible of her eyes. She'd also darkened her makeup just a bit, but not too much; she knew Jack didn't like her wearing a lot of it.

"You, uh..." He swallowed again, absentmindedly turning off the TV and dropping the remote before standing. "You look really great."

She grinned, walking into the living room area and dangled a set of white wedges off her finger. When she was plenty sure she had his attention (as if she wouldn't at this point), she bent over a few feet in front of him to slip her shoes on, giving him a view of her ass and legs that most men would have paid to see.

Talk about sight seeing.

When she stood up and turned around to face him, he had his hands shoved into the pockets of his khaki shorts and an expression on his face that was somewhere in the category of 'dumbfounded'. She forced herself not to grin and instead raised her eyebrows in mock innocence.

"Well? Are you ready?"

He didn't move in an inch.

"Jack?"

"Uh, yeah! I'm ready. I just...I'm gonna...freshen up a bit," he said, clearing his throat and forcing himself to tear his eyes away from her form.

He quickly entered the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, attempting to wake himself up out of the Carter-induced daze she'd so evilly put him in, then dabbed a bit of aftershave on (the kind he knew she loved by the way she nuzzled his neck every time he wore it). When he reemerged from the bathroom, he found her organizing her purse. There was a place for her chapstick, her money, her hotel room key, even a little compartment she kept her hair ties in now that her golden locks were long enough to sling back into a ponytail. He had spent short car rides rummaging through her purse and she drove them to the base or to the grocery store, figuring out all the mysteries of Carter's purse. She didn't seem to care. Well, until he pulled out a tampon with a wicked grin on his face (_Where does this go, Carter?_) and she reached over to snatch it away from him (_Where do you think, Jack?_).

He cleared his throat. She turned to look at him and smiled.

"I'm ready," she said, putting the last of her girly items into her purse before slinging it over her shoulder. "You smell good," she commented on their way out the door.

"So do you."

*** * * * ***

The air was hot, but not unbearably so. Had they come any earlier in the year, the humidity would have probably been too hot to stand for Jack's tastes. Sam, however, enjoyed the scorching hot temperatures.

They walked bye various shops and restaurants. Jack started to count the number of souvenir shops they passed (gave up after ten), even paused at one where a stuffed alligator was dressed in a floral shirt and sunhat, and Sam got out her camera to take a picture of him posing next to him, grinning at the downright playfulness he demonstrated.

"Say cheese, General."

Finally arriving at a casual outside diner (it was the bar in particular that captured Jack's interest), the smells that filled their nostrils were absolutely irresistible. Palm trees sprung up randomly throughout the area of tall, circular tables and cozy booths. Sam asked that they be seated towards the back of the eating area, and a young girl, dressed in an apron, polo, and denim shorts led them to a booth that was partly shaded from the sun by a tree and next to a small fountain.

They ordered their drinks and settled back into their seat, Jack's arm resting lazily above Sam's shoulders over the top of the booth. She sighed and happily gazed at the menu.

"Whatcha thinking?" he asked over their shared menu.

"Mmm. Seafood," she replied. "They have an all-you-can-eat seafood platter. Looks big. You wanna share?"

"I was thinking the same thing," he said, grinning.

The waitress brought them their drinks (Sam, a sugar-free strawberry daiquiri; Jack, a bottle of beer and a glass of ice) and took their orders, reaching down to take their menu. Sam's eyes widened as as the young, twenty-something waitress let her eyes linger on Jack for just a moment too long, topping it off with a smile that was far more than friendly. As she walked away, Sam glanced up at Jack who seemed completely oblivious. He took a sip of his beer, set the glass down, and glanced over at her. His brow furrowed at her annoyed expression.

"What?"

"She was flirting with you."

"Huh?"

His eyes glanced across the eating area at their waitress - Leslie - and, sure enough, she smiled seductively at him before turning to enter the kitchen to deliver their orders.

"Wow, really?" he asked, face lighting up with interest.

"What, you mean you're okay with that?" Sam asked, shocked.

"I'm a guy, Carter. Why wouldn't I be okay with some young girl flirting with me?"

His smirk told her he was pushing her buttons on purpose, yet she couldn't help but think part of his statement was true. He _was_ a guy after all. Sam humphed and slump down in her seat, scooting ever the slightest bit away from his arm above her shoulders. He didn't seem to notice that either and, instead, leaned forward and twirled the umbrella in her drink with an amused expression.

As the waitress exited out of the kitchen area and moved to seat a few more hungry guests, Sam's mind worked. A smirk played her lips as she slid back towards Jack until they were hip to hip and her hand was lightly skimming his knee. In response, his fingers dipped into her hair and gently stroked, igniting a hum from her.

Leslie and her tight denim jeans approached, and Sam grasped his thigh, reaching up with her other hand to turn his chin towards her. Before he had a chance to protest - not that he would have even considered it - she captured his mouth in a fiery kiss that was probably a bit too much of a public display of affection either of their personal tastes, but she had to mark her territory. When she drew back to look at a surprised, albeit happy Jack, she caught an eye roll from Leslie the waitress out of her peripheral vision.

Sam smirked.

"Carter?" he asked, smiling in his happy confusion.

"Jack?" she replied sweetly, dragging her fingers over the hint of stubble forming along his jawline.

"Nothin'," he said, shaking his head slightly before dipping down to plant a kiss on her forehead.

And perfect timing he had, because at that moment their food (and leggy Leslie) was making its way towards them and his affectionate gesture could not have gone unnoticed by her prying eyes. Was that a huff she was detecting from their friendly waitress?

They ate their delicious seafood in comfortable silence, Sam occasionally handing Jack a napkin when he would lick the buttery lemon pepper sauce from his fingers. They competed for last piece of shrimp. He won. She sent him an adorable pout, earning that mouth-watering little shrimp a quick trip into her lips with little hesitation on his part.

By the time they'd enjoyed several drink refills and stuffed themselves with all the seafood they could possibly eat without getting sick, it was nearly four in the afternoon and the sun was notably lower in the sky. A warm breeze begun to rustle the palms and twirl her hair around her head. The city around them seemed to come alive as the day grew later, lights flickering on and more people mulling about. They paid their bill and made their way back to the walkway, trying to decide which shops to visit and which ones weren't worth their time. She linked her arm through his, and he kissed the top of her head.

They stopped at a tourist shop that was only a block away from their hotel (this one was free of stuffed, dressed alligators however). He tried on a few ridiculous, floppy hats that reminded her of the ones Daniel used to wear in the field. She fingered a seashell necklace, then moved on to look at the different shot glasses and coffee cups, musing what she should bring back for Daniel, Teal'c, Cam, and Vala. By the time she had chosen a hat for Teal'c and a set of earrings for Vala, she turned to find Jack was nowhere in sight. She went looking for him and found him already at the checkout.

"What did you buy?"

"Nothin'."

He smiled at her and shoved a little plastic bag into his pocket.

"You almost done?" he asked.

"I just need to find something for Daniel and Cam, but I can do that later this week." She smiled curiously at him, eying his pocket. Shrugging, she purchased the items and they walked back to their hotel.

Instead of heading straight to their room (which was quite honestly on both of their minds), they decided to check out the pool. The hotel enclosed around the outdoor area, a large circular pool in the middle of the tiled patio, with a jacuzzi and hot tub offset. There was also a fairly large, twisting water slide that plunged directly into the main pool where several young boys were currently conducting very scientific research on how many ways one could use said slide without killing oneself.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked her, a boyish smile undeniably finding his lips. She grinned back at him, lacing her fingers through his.

"I suppose just about now is the time you're wondering whether or not I kept up my end of the bargain."

"Ah. You know me all too well, Carter."

Her grin turned wicked, and she released his hand, making her way to the elevator that would take them up to their hotel room.

"I don't think you'll be disappointed," she said over her shoulder, then punched in their floor number and listened as the elevator rolled to life from a few stories up.

He blew out a breath of air and he watched her from a few feet behind. It was far too easy to picture Carter in a little bikini, and her smug expression told him that he wasn't going to have to be doing much imagining for long.

The elevator doors slid open and he joined her, his hands traveling down to find her waist from behind. He drew her closer and tightened his jaw as she turned around in his arms and placed her fingers through his belt loops at the front of his shorts. She smiled up at him, eyes lingering on his lips in an obvious sign she wanted to kiss him (devour him actually, but she could be patient if he could be).

He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers, soft and teasing at first, before sliding his tongue into the moist cavern of her mouth as the elevator continued to ascend. His hands traveled down to her ass and he squeezed, emitting a moan from her that created tiny vibrations and tickled his lips. The ding of the elevator brought them back to their senses, and the shaft jerked to a stop, the glass doors opening to reveal their floor level. They reluctantly pulled apart and made their way to their room, each of their bodies humming in anticipation. Jack gazed down at the pool several stories below as Sam slid the key through the lock, noting that if he was going to be dealing with Carter in a bikini for the next hour or more, the coolness of the pool was going to be very welcomed.

"Jack?"

She smiled expectantly at him, and he flinched from his thoughts, turning to find her holding the door open for him.

"Yeah," he said, following her into the hotel room.

She moved into the bedroom and unzipped her suitcase, and he peered anxiously from his position in the bedroom doorway, unmoving, eyes intent on her. She looked up at saw him there, shook her head and pushed him out.

"I need to get changed."

"I know. Can't I watch? Carter," he complained, and she shut the door.

"Get your swimming suit on!" she called through the closed door. "I'll be out in a second."

He gazed at the closed door and stubbornly tried to make out her silhouette through the curtain as she pulled her shirt over her head. She must have noticed him still standing there, because she flicked the light off in the room, and Jack pouted in defeat, moving towards his suit case to find his swimming trunks. He undressed quickly, shivering in the cold temperature from the air conditioning, and slipped on his black swimming trunks, frowning at what he saw in the mirror. Here he was, spending the week with a gloriously fit blonde, especially for her age (she complained about her hips and he had no idea what she was talking about), and the weight he had put on over the past few months was nothing but testament to time spent behind a desk and not out in the field. He hoped she'd understand.

The bedroom door opened and any previous thoughts were lost somewhere between "holy shit, Carter" and the vast amount of creamy skin that teased his eyes, stopped the blood flow to his brain, and diverted it to other, more Southern regions of his body.

Oh yeah. Carter had brought a little bikini alright. A teeny, tiny, _red_ bikini that barely concealed anything. Little was a total understatement.

Jack gulped and felt sweat break out on his hairline. She just grinned back, and he was pretty sure that bringing Carter to Florida had to be one of the best ideas he'd had during his entire career.

_TBC!_


End file.
